October 7, 2008

I fall asleep at nightThinking you’d be there tomorrowAnd I’ll Kiss youLike I kissed you for the first timeWhen I awake I’ll find youWaiting by my drivewaySmiling, and singingSongs that make me cry now

So tell, tell meDo u mean what u sayCuz I’m tired, I’m tiredof the games we playBaby babyDo u know If this meansGoodbye

Here we go againAnd it feels like fallingAnd I’m wondering where I standBefore you go againI’m gonna say it loudI don’t need you now

With your life as suchSometimes u don’t even knowHow the snowCan make me smile so muchThen you turn around and sayThat it would be okayBut your empty wordsMean nothing to me, nothing to me now

You read my mindLike a mirrorDo you wonderHow we feel?Do you shiver in the nightWhen you just don’t know what is rightAre you safe from your uninformed thoughts and good intentions?If nobody knows anything at all

You think you knowYou think you feelWell aren’t you one in a million just like everybody elseI say take it if you canAnd read the writing on the wallSee the truth in every lie

Before the day you dieIf nobody knows anything at allIf nobody knows anything at all

I NEVER thought much about our national anthem. It’s not bad, every country has one – it’s our national anthem. But something unexpected happened recently, where for the first time in my life, tears welled in my eyes as I sang Negaraku.

To be honest, I initially felt embarrassed. Since when did singing the national anthem mean so much to me? Some like to talk about musical structure, arrangement, delivery, and whatnot when it comes to evoking emotions with the listener. But the undeniable mix to this concoction to move a listener is from the listener’s experience and the context of the moment in question. The song’s the same, so what changed?

I grew up singing our national anthem every Monday morning in school. But there is only so much formalised patriotic actions and calls of unity can do to foster the kind of unity that goes beyond that which only aims to rid the symptoms of disunity.

There is also not much that preaching about unity can do, if racial politics or injustices between communities are exploited or allowed to happen. Malaysians who understand what unity is about, can see through the empty words of those whose actions either run contrary to what they preach, or when such increasingly popular lingo is applied vacuously in the wrong context. In such cases, empty slogans of unity or its equivalent claims will fail miserably.

I used to say Malaysia is my home because well, I grew up here and there isn’t anywhere else to call home. Calling Malaysia home by default isn’t very inspiring but at least the food, people, and places never fail to top the list as things in common that defines us somewhat.

However, there was still something missing somehow, which brings to mind this line I heard recently watching a documentary (www.one-nation-under-lee.org) about Singapore’s untold history, in which it says, "It was only when we feel that our voices are heard, and that we matter, do we feel that we belong to Singapore". I felt an immediate empathy for our neighbour, and wondered if many Singaporeans feel that they do not really belong in their own country.

So it was on the eve of Sept 16 celebrating Malaysia day and in support of abolishing the ISA among thousands of Malaysians, I felt that we were singing the Negaraku with full conviction. We were willingly participating as civil society, making a stand against injustice, to make our country better for all. I was moved when I heard Malaysians speak out against unjust actions from those of their own communities, for that was a sign that people are making a stand for what’s right across racial lines.

Home is not just somewhere where we eat and sleep; a hotel will do for that. If we truly want Malaysia to be our home, we need to take part as civil society to have a say in how we want our country to be. Perhaps then we can feel that we truly belong.

October 1, 2008

You're looking at the cover of my CD. That's right. It's the one with lots of white spaces on the front. I have been wondering for the longest time, 'why should I make an album?' when recording individual songs will do, in doing what it is I really liked about 'music'.

I liked music because part of it was therapeutic, and partly a way to encapsulate and express certain things. I came to a tentative conclusion that what inspires me most, is to capture and express the gist of something that I have been thinking about.

In a way, putting the songs on record is also a sort of closure, to put on record certain defining and shared moments with others, as experienced, that looking back in memory, helped shaped that time in life, not necessarily mine.

I guess it is also for the times when people asked for my CD, for something tangible, and a way to get my songs out there recorded in the best way possible in which its essence aren't compromised.

It's nice that different people can appreciate the same song differently- perhaps an unintentional result of the way the songs were written or titled.

Most of the songs were written in the quiet stillness of the night. While a title like Sunny Days suggests a pleasing song, I'm afraid it is anything but sunshine. 'Good intentions' is about bigotry, chauvinism, with some inspiration from science, and 'Sleeping' is about crossroads and life's choices. 'Beautiful minds' was inspired by a writing class, about different realities, and 'My time' and 'Do you see me like you' were written for documentaries; 'my time' about a man who lost his family and his resolution in fighting an unjust law that led to that tragedy, and 'Do you see me like you' is about prejudice.

I sometimes imagine my songs as individual cartoon characters, and how they feel having been to places unimagined at time of writing. 'Feels like falling' is an honest song, primarily written for private therapeutic reasons, but ironically went on to win an award for being the most downloaded song on a Malaysian music chart. But my hero would be 'do you see me like you', who despite being used for an AIDS campaign, and one against child abuse, somehow found it's way, as part of an anti-racism educational video series, into an infamous racially tinged party's general assembly, where the Vcd was waved around and wrongfully accused to incite racism, when it's purpose was exactly the opposite.

I couldn't quite decide on a title for my CD that would not impose upon what they are about. So there you go; it's a 7-track CD of the above songs that has gotten heard at the 'mother-of-all' women's music festival in 2008. But I think they're just glad that after being kept in the sidelines for a bit, and having been messed around with one imposing and conniving music producer, they finally found a home that appreciates them for what they are.